'If you get too close, the wristband alarms go off.' That's it. That's the sentence that built an entire world for me. Two words—wristband alarms—and suddenly I can see the inner campus. I can see the glowing barriers, the security systems, the whole hierarchy of who gets to go where. Aunt Wang says it so casually, like she's commenting on the weather, but it's one of the most efficient pieces of worldbuilding I've read in a while. The author doesn't need three pages of description. A simple alarm on a wristband tells us everything: this place is controlled, restricted, and the rules are enforced automatically. No guards needed at every corner. And then Gu Mingjie's explanation of the four Transcendent Departments—Transcendence, Elemental, Psychic, Conceptual—gives us this whole taxonomy of power that immediately makes me want to categorize every character. Where does Su Xi fit? Where does Captain Lyu? The Conceptual System description is my favorite detail because it's basically the 'everything else' category, which means the author has given herself infinite creative freedom. Anything weird and wonderful can live there. I also love the visual of the group sprawled on the sofa after two hours of eating, holding tea cups, finally getting to the main topic. It's so domestic, so normal, and it contrasts perfectly with the extraordinary world they're in. The outer campus versus inner campus divide, the rank system replacing academic years, the fact that teachers are Rank Five or Six while the students are basically newborns—all of these details layer on top of each other to create a world that feels lived-in and systematic. It's not just a cool setting; it's a setting with rules, and rules are where the drama lives.